


The Mole People Chapters

by nikkilittle



Category: American McGee's Alice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 19:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15691491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkilittle/pseuds/nikkilittle
Summary: An excerpt from "Dragonfly." Alice visits a homeless encampment located on an abandoned subway platform beneath New York City. Alternate Universe: a modern American Alice in a real Wonderland.A complete copy of "Dragonfly" can be found in my "Princess of Thieves" Series.





	The Mole People Chapters

The Mole People Chapters

Excerpt from "Dragonfly"

"The worst illiterate is the political illiterate. He hears nothing, sees nothing, takes no part in political life. He doesn't seem to know that the cost of living, the price of beans, of flour, of rent, of medicines all depend on political decisions. He even prides himself on his political ignorance, sticks out his chest and says he hates politics. He doesn't know, the imbecile, that from his political non-participation comes the prostitute, the abandoned child, the robber and, worst of all, corrupt officials, the lackeys of exploitative multinational corporations." -Bertolt Brecht

Chapter 9: "In the Realm of Shadows"

It was three o'clock in the morning when I arrived at the abandoned Worth Street subway platform in New York City with my bag of raid equipment. Dim lights shone along the silent tracks casting shadows everywhere I looked. A pillar with "Worth" marked in black ink stood in front of me. It was covered from head to foot in curlicues of black spray-paint. Graffiti covered the walls everywhere I looked. There was no platform on the opposite side of the tracks or in the center. Just the platform on my left and tracks on my right. Rusted metal beams across the ceiling held up whatever was above.

I approached the part of the platform with antiquated metallic cages holding light bulbs along the inner side of the platforms. All of the bulbs were lit. The Worth Street platform may have been abandoned since 1962, but someone was still doing routine maintenance such as replacing bulbs.

A Nighthawk explosive gases detector was plugged into the bottom plug-in of an electrical outlet at the edge of the public area of the platform. The red digital display shone eerily amidst the dim light and shadows. A cord ran from the top plug-in of the electrical outlet to a tiny dormitory refrigerator sitting on top of a wooden pallet. Electrical tape against the wall held the cord up off the floor. I could see a second tiny dormitory refrigerator also sitting on a pallet plugged into the top plug-in of the electrical outlet at the opposite end of the public area of the platform. Its cord was also held up off the floor by electrical tape on the wall. Another detector was plugged into the bottom plug-in of the outlet. Probably a smoke detector.

Farther back on both sides of the public area of the platform, I saw two-burner portable electric cooktops sitting on beat-up wooden tables. Their short cords were plugged into electrical outlets. I noticed that one plug-in by each table was free. Hand-made wooden shelving stood by both tables holding non-perishable foods such as spaghetti, rice, dry beans, instant mashed potatoes, and teabags in big covered glass jars with taped labels. One shelf was full of cans of evaporated milk and small, plastic bowls stacked up. The bottom shelves on both sides had Ajax dish liquid, bottles of Clorox, bars of soap, boxes of powdered floor cleaner, and big, plastic tubs that I thought might be for washing dishes. I had seen pictures in newspapers of Peace Corps Volunteers in Africa washing dishes in a row of three big plastic tubs. Soapy water in the first, clear rinse in the second, and sanitizer in the third. I noticed small containers of salt, pepper, oregano, basil, sage, and thyme on the tables. I wondered what was in the refrigerators and asked to take a look in the one closest to me. Eggs and carrots. Nothing else except ice in the small trays in the tiny freezer area.

In the back of the public area I saw a cement stairway which looked as if someone had spilled a bucket of black paint at the top of the stairs. The black discoloration ran down the left side of all the steps all the way to the floor. A dimly lit restroom was visible to the right of the stairway. Trash was swept into corners near the stairway. Just to the left of the stairway was a graffiti which announced "Welcome to Hell" above an image of the iconic Big Boy holding aloft a plate of roasted rat with an apple in its mouth. I felt a shiver. I had walked into what looked like the set of a horror movie.

Feral cats, wide awake and on the hunt, roamed everywhere both on the platform and down along the tracks. Three dozen total perhaps? Several of them were feasting on large rats. I guessed that the evaporated milk was for the cats. Perhaps twenty-five people slept on what looked like army surplus cots. Two guards posted across the tracks approached me. Both of them were carrying hunting rifles. I stood still and waited for them. The taller guard spoke first.

"You're looking well. It's been about a year since you were last here. As you can see, there are more of us down here. I think that there were only ten of us when you showed up for the first time. We were really surprised. We never thought you'd show up in a place like this. Nine of the original ten are still here."

"What happened to the tenth?" I asked.

"At first, we thought she had found a way out of this place. She just disappeared. Then people from another platform, maybe the 91st Street platform, showed us a newspaper article of a body discovered floating in the East River. No ID on the body. The newspaper had a drawing of the face. We knew it was her. We just knew."

"I'm sorry. Almost every large homeless camp I've visited has had at least one suicide. People keep hoping the politicians will do something positive, but nothing ever happens. People give up."

"You came to do a raid. I'll go wake up our day runners. They go uptop to the food banks. Our night runners are out scavenging through dumpsters. You'd be amazed what grocery stores throw away."

The shorter guard came back with three day runners. "I'll go see if I can find some volunteers who don't mind losing a little sleep for food that they get to choose." In a few minutes he came back with seven more people. "Ten enough?" he asked.

"The number is up to you. I'm willing to take everyone through the portal if you want."

"You'll take all of us?" The shorter guard seemed incredulous.

"I've done raids with as many as forty people. Of course, those people knew exactly what to do. Remember that we've got only four minutes inside a store. After three minutes and fifteen seconds, I use a loud horn to get everyone back. Forty-five seconds to get everyone back through the portal. I count as people go through. Every once in a while, somebody doesn't make it to the portal. At four minutes, I go through and close the portal. Don't worry, I'll explain how a raid is done before we leave. There are only a few things to remember."

In a few moments, I had everyone living here except the two guards ready to go. Everyone agreed that it was best if the two guards remained behind. Nobody here had any qualms about stealing food. Before we went on our raid, however, one member of the group had downloaded several videos on YouTube that she felt I absolutely needed to see before we went on a raid. Curious, I indulged her.

"People in New York City have been seeing weird insects inside grocery stores. Insects they had never seen inside grocery stores before." She showed me several cell phone videos of what appeared to be dragonflies inside grocery stores. I heaved a great sigh.

"Thank you for showing me those videos. Those were not insects. They were drones waiting for me to show up."

"What could those tiny little things do to you?"

"They carry auto-injector needles filled with cyanide. They're for me." I paused for a moment. "You have internet down here?"

"There's an independent coffee shop almost directly above our heads. They run an open wireless network and never shut it off."

I looked at our crowd. "Change of plans everyone. We're going to raid a Cheapmart in a foreign country. Great Britain suit everyone? It's still English on the labels." No complaints. If anything, everyone seemed a little excited to see something besides an American grocery store. I still needed to give my pre-raid speech to everyone.

"Every single raid I do follows the same formula. First, I open a smoke portal and toss through the shrunken head of the duchess which releases a non-toxic but hallucinogenic gas that makes people see monsters. One whiff and everybody runs. It takes 30-60 seconds for the gas to fill the store depending on its size. It dissipates quickly. After 90 seconds I go through the portal first and everyone going on the raid should follow. If something has gone wrong such as cops showing up, I slam the portal shut on you. I return and we choose some other target to raid. I count heads as you come through the portal. The portal will have opened up next to an aisle that has gym bags on the shelves. The portal will remain open the entire time that we are in the target store. I always scout out target stores in advance. Grab a gym bag. This is what you will use to carry your loot. Head immediately to your pre-determined target and fill your gym bag full. When your gym bag is full, head immediately back to the portal and go through. Don't be dainty. Grab. Be quick about it. We all have to be out after four minutes. At three minutes fifteen seconds, my timer alarm will go off. I will blow on a very loud horn. That means everybody out immediately. Run to the portal and go through. Immediately step to the left or right and get out of the way so that you don't get run over. I count heads as you go through. I leave last after everyone else is through. Then I close the portal with a jackbomb. Stand back when I do it. Afterwards, do whatever you do to unwind after something stressful. I usually leave at this time."

Everyone looked at each other. The original group living on this platform who had all done the first raid picked one or two "newbs" to come with them. I still had to distribute the usual disposable rubber gloves and ski masks.

"Everyone has to wear these disposable gloves during the raid. Wait until you have returned to this platform to dispose of them. Don't toss them in a garbage can inside the target store. Your fingerprints are on the inside of the gloves! Everyone must cover their face with a ski mask during the raid. You can keep the ski mask. I'll give you all a few minutes to decide what your targets are for the raid. A few of you should grab large bulk bags of rice and packages of spaghetti. Don't be delicate. Sweep the boxes of spaghetti off the shelves into your gym bags. Don't stop to pick up the ones that miss. Avoid highly perishable foods. One of you should grab for eggs since you have refrigerators. Check to see how much space you have available. Don't take the time to check for broken eggs. Just grab. You can check the eggs later. Someone should grab for canned soups. Remember that cans are heavy. Leave the cans for people who can lift 100 pounds. Grab for bulk packs whenever you can. No expensive shiny stuff. Remember that this is a form of political protest. If you grab for an expensive laptop computer, I'll drop you immediately back on the platform. In homeless encampments above, I've dropped people into creeks in summer. No expensive shiny stuff. I mean it. Chromebooks are okay. So are netbooks if you can find one. Now you should decide what your targets are."

I passed out the disposable rubber gloves and the ski masks while the raiders decided what to grab for. I also put the disposable gloves on my own hands, but no ski mask. I did my raids with my own face uncovered. No point in covering my face anyway as my clothes and the portals were dead give-aways. After a few minutes, I blew my horn and everyone snapped to attention.

"One last piece of advice: don't grab for anything in glass. Glass breaks. You can get hurt if a glass jar hits the floor. Be careful if you're grabbing something that is next to glass containers. Now, let's go!"

I blew open a smoke portal and in went the shrunken head of the duchess. Show time.

End of Chapter 9

This story is based on the characters created by American McGee. EA (Electronic Arts) owns the copyrights.

Chapter 10: "Pitch Black"

The raid went as normal with two small hitches. The first small hitch was that one young woman started to grab for Chromebooks and I stopped her. "The electrical adapters are all for 220-240 volts. Leave them! Get something nonelectrical." She filled her gym bag with plastic bottles of cooking oil. The second hitch was another young woman who wanted to swipe dresses and was unaware that British dress sizes were not the same as U.S. sizes. I warned her and she started grabbing two or three of every size available. I thought that was the smart way to go about it. Grab everything and sort it out later.

The prizes of the raid were some folding card tables and portable folding aluminum lawn chairs. It was 3:30 A.M. after we finished the raid. The two guards met me and asked me to take a walk with them to help with a problem that they were reluctant to handle. Dead bodies in a completely abandoned line. They carried their rifles with them. Propped against their shoulders pointed almost straight up. I was sure that they were military veterans.

"That's the third rail," announced the taller guard pointing downward off the platform. "Stay as far as you can from it." He walked down a graduated series of concrete blocks piled up to the left of the platform which served as a sort of ladder for the feral cats. The concrete blocks were about 18 inches wide which was wide enough except for one problem: the blocks were shoved up against the wall of the tunnel. My left hip would be in the way. The taller guard looked back at me and asked why I didn't follow.

"These!" I said, pointing to my hips. He broke out laughing.

"Too shapely for the stairs! Want me to get the ladder, Princess?"

"No, I'll hop down. It's only a few feet."

I sat down on the edge of the concrete which the residents kept swept and mopped and let myself down delicately. We headed left toward the spur line that was completely abandoned. After about two minutes of walking, I spotted to my left a graffiti that had my own face. There was a quote with my portrait.

"Money is a sick, psychotic scorekeeping system invented by a tiny handful of super-rich people to control the whole of humanity. They control the price of everything and the wages everyone earns. It is an economic dictatorship. It is the continuation of slavery without the ankle chain and whip. The new lash becomes the threat of hunger and homelessness. Anyone who challenges the system is imprisoned or cast out into the streets to serve as an example to the rest. Under capitalism, governments, legal systems, jails, prisons, police, security guards, and the military all serve to protect the power of the billionaire class. They work to ensure the continuation of the system of mass servitude. Make no mistake: if you work for money, you are a slave." -Alice of Wonderland

"It's quite a quote," said the shorter guard. "Most people in the world above us would dismiss it out of hand. They would say that you're the crazy one. Those of us down here in the tunnels know otherwise. The people of the world above are sleepwalkers. It's a real-life Matrix up there. The idea that money is an illusion, a pure abstraction, requires too much effort on their part. They don't want to consider the idea that our society is stark raving mad. Look at who our president is! The movie 'Idiocracy' was supposed to be a satire, not prophesy!"

"You won't get any argument from me about that movie. I saw it a long time ago and I've been thinking about it a lot." We trudged past a platform that was in use. It was brightly lit, clean, and had no graffiti up on the platform itself. To the left and right of the platform, however, the frequent graffiti images continued. A few of the graffiti images appeared to be painted with a brush. One such painted image showed a giant rat with a crown and scepter and the quote "We rule the night!"

"Some of these graffiti artists have real talent!" I commented as I stared at King Rat.

"And yet the only thing some of them get for their work is a prison sentence."

The taller guard pointed ahead and noted what appeared to be simply a dark spot in the wall. It was on our right across the tracks. We had to step over the third rail on both sides. Ugh! My dresses only came down to just above the knee, but I held my dress up anyway as I stepped over both times. "That's the entrance into the abandoned line. Since there are absolutely no lights in there, you might make the assumption that the third rail is not electrified. Stay well away from it anyway, just in case." We approached closer and I was unable to see anything beyond the opening area. Pitch black.

"We're going in there?" I asked. I was genuinely unnerved.

"We both have three flashlights," said the taller guard. "The one in the right pocket that we use. The one in the left pocket that is a backup. Both of us have a penlight in the shirt pocket. You don't ever want to get caught down here without a light. You never know when the electricity might go out. There's also a reason besides total darkness that you don't ever want to get caught without a light. You'll find out soon enough."

We entered the abandoned spur line. A few steps in and the darkness enveloped us. I still heard ventilation fans humming, however. Only the feeble light from the flashlights enabled us to see where we were stepping. We kept to the right to avoid the third rail. I heard ominous rustling sounds everywhere around us. Ancient trash was everywhere.

"That sound you hear is the rats retreating from our lights," said the shorter guard. "They're just beyond the lit part of the ground. They're everywhere. They won't go voluntarily into the light. I could suddenly raise my light to let you see them if you'd like."

"I'll pass on that. As long as they retreat from the light, I'm happy."

"The abandoned platforms are all on the right," said the shorter guard. "The first one is a few minutes up ahead."

The rustling sounds just beyond the reach of the flashlights continued. I noticed that there were no feral cats in this tunnel. A trickle of water appeared on the tracks.

"There's a broken water pipe up ahead," said the taller guard. "I have no idea how long it's been spewing. Could be decades."

"What were people doing in this tunnel?"

The two guards looked at each other. The shorter guard decided to answer.

"The transit police cleared the tunnel dwellers out in the 1990s. Not everyone left. A few people retreated deeper into the tunnels into places where the transit police were afraid to go. Such as this tunnel. The people who went into this tunnel never came out. The folklore is that they all died of murine typhus."

"How did they get typhus?"

"Rat fleas. Murine typhus is supposed to be highly treatable, but this happened before the Medicaid expansion. The people in this tunnel tried to sweat it out, and eventually all of them died. The bodies are still here. Don't touch them."

"No warning was needed," I said. "When did people start filtering back into the subway tunnels?"

"A few years ago. The homeless shelters are all full. No housing available. No place to put us except the streets if the transit police evict us. The Democratic mayor has ordered an end to homeless evictions for the time being. Not sure if that applies to abandoned private property."

We trudged ahead kicking aside the trash in front of us as we walked. The rustling sounds of the rats became louder. The taller guard turned his head.

"The first platform is just up ahead. We'll have to pull ourselves up onto the platform. How's your stomach doing?"

"Queasy, but still okay. Let's go."

We reached the platform, and the two guards pulled themselves up. The place was strewn with trash everywhere. No needles from druggies shooting up, though. Praises be. The two guards kicked away all the trash and I pulled myself up onto the filthy platform. I raised my hands in front of my face and stared at the dirt.

"Awww! Princess get dirty?" teased the taller guard.

"I'll take a shower when I get back to Wonderland and have my clothes washed."

I was struck by how little graffiti was on the platform. I kicked trash out of the way as I walked. The two guards led me directly to the bodies. Seven skeletons with every last ounce of flesh gone. Nothing but pure dirty white bone. The taller guard turned toward me.

"It is now 4:15 A.M. The trains start running in one hour and fifteen minutes. We can't go any further into the tunnel if we want to get back to the Worth Street platform. There's not enough room to flatten against the tunnel walls if a train is passing. What do you want to do with the bodies, Princess?"

"Do you have any paper and markers with you?"

"Nope, but there's some paper and markers back on the Worth Street platform."

"I'll be back." I disappeared through a mind portal. Five minutes later I returned with seven sheets of heavy white paper with "Died from Murine Typhus in Tunnels before Medicaid Expansion -Alice" marked on each in medium black marker ink. I placed one sheet on each of the seven skeletons and then dropped each through a mind portal.

"What did you do with the bodies?" asked the taller guard when I was finished.

"I gave them to the governor in his mansion."

End of Chapter 10

This story is based on the characters created by American McGee. EA (Electronic Arts) owns the copyrights.


End file.
